"Home"sickness

For me, homesickness is something that’s triggered. When I’m in a new place or someplace other than “home,” I’m usually not that homesick. I like exploring new places, trying new foods, and generally adapting to my environment. Maybe I’ve just never been away long enough to experience the full downward spiral of the Culture Shock U-Curve. I think it’s actually the returning, the “reverse Culture Shock,” that hits me the worst. Every now and then, something will trigger that wave of emotions that makes me long to be back in my comfort zone whether it’s here or abroad.

I have been fortunate enough to call quite a few places “home,” if even for a short period of time. In Italy, I made my home. I walked to school every day listening to an ever-growing playlist, and, now, if I hear a certain song from that list, I long to be back at the Duomo, or walking along the banks of the Arno. I have a perfume that, when I smell it, brings me back to those family moments like dinner with my host mother or sharing a bathroom with my host sister. It’s the little things, the mundane things, that really give me this longing to return.

And how do I fight this homesickness? I don’t. I take comfort in the thought that I was able to feel so “at home” in Italy. Do I get sad or lonely or long for my friends and the family I made? Certo. So what do I do? I put on my perfume and my favorite song from Italy. I close my eyes, and I let myself take a trip “home” … in my mind. For some people, this may not work. It may make them want to return even more. For me, it’s a way to keep my "home" alive in my memories. And though I can't always shake the longing and the heartache, I keep going. To stop changing and growing and adapting is to stop living.

I think my kryptonite of homesickness, however, is American football. My friends all tell me that I’m an old man because the one thing I always miss about home is dozing on the couch under my favorite blanket with a cat curled up in my lap, a dog asleep at my feet, a drink by my side, a fire in the fireplace, and a game on. Freshman year, I fought this homesickness by not watching any of the games (except the Super bowl). I knew, if I watched them in my tiny room with its white walls and florescent lighting, I would only miss home more. When I got snowed into Germany, and was driving on the bus to my third plane (which would be cancelled like all the rest), I longed, more than anything, to just be home on my couch. The snow could keep falling then, because I would be home and safely tucked away under my blanket and my cat.

What I’ve learned, however, is that we can create a new home when we find a way to make a space that gives us comfort after a long day. My tiny freshman year room brought me a lot of comfort when I came in from DC’s winter winds. My bamboo plant has traveled with me from home to home, giving my room a familiar feel no matter where I go.

The funny thing is, and please tell me if anyone else feels this way, when I’m at one home, I often get a longing to be at another. If I’m at school on a chilly fall day, I often long for my couch and football game. When I’m not at school, I often crave the comfort of a lazy Saturday spent in bed with no parents to disturb me or the freedom to walk around the city when I have nothing to do. Does this make me sad, the fact that part of me will always long for my “other home?” At times. But I also cherish the fact that I have managed to find so many places that give me the comfort and solace that we so often associate with home ...

and Puppies.

-K.M.